


The Adventure of the Sick Detective

by highlyfashionablesociopath



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Sick Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlyfashionablesociopath/pseuds/highlyfashionablesociopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a spat between Sherlock and John about how Sherlock needs to take care of himself more, Sherlock comes down with a fever.  John takes care of him.  While Sherlock is in an unusually delusional state of mind whether due to the medication or the fever itself, a confession slips out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventure of the Sick Detective

A few months into their time together at Baker Street was more than enough to show some of the havoc it caused. The pair may seem inseperable to those on the outside, those who don't know them as well. But in the flat of 221b Baker Street, (and even occasionally _outside_ of the flat) Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson had a row on more than one occasion. They made up of course, they always do. One of them, usually Sherlock, sucking up to John as an apology and John not being able to resist, forgiving him. It had been one of those nights. This particular argument came when John told Sherlock off for not taking better care of himself on an especially tedious case they were on.  
This one had gotten a little out of hand when Sherlock brought up the point, "I was just fine before you moved in and tried to play Mother, what makes you think I need your help now." He regretted the words as soon as he saw the brief flash of hurt upon the doctor's face. But before he could apologize, John shook his head, muttering a "right" and went to his room. Sherlock sighed, shoving the moment temporarily in to the back of his mind as he went back to work examining the subject he had beneath the microscope.

The feeling of dizziness and being lightheaded should have been his first clue, but he was in too deep in concentration to even notice a difference. It wasn't until he passed out when he figured out something was off. John had heard it, the thud of Sherlock's head hitting the table. He rushed out as soon as he did, sighing at the sight before him. He woke Sherlock up, putting a hand to his forehead to take his temperature, and upon deciding it was a fever, he dragged him to the couch so he could rest a bit more comfortably. Sherlock muttered a few things reminiscent of "John" "stop" "what" "I'm fine" along the way, but John ignored it, and after placing him on the sofa, he went off to get him medicine and food.

A day or so later, whether it be due to the fever itself or medication, Sherlock was in a specially blissfully babbling state. He was still confined to the sofa, but changed positions every so often and mumbled things like "need to get back to work" before John shot him a "not until you get well" glance. Those usually shut him up, making him turn the opposite direction on the couch so he was facing away from John. John shook his head fondly at the reaction, about to leave after placing Sherlock's medication and food upon the table next to him, when he felt a grip on his wrist. He looked down at the wrist, seeing it belong to the lanky figure on the couch itself. He sighed.  
"What, Sherlock?"  
"Stay."  
"Sorry, what?"  
" _Stay_ , John." The detective looked up with pleading eyes. "Don't leave me alone. I don't like being alone."  
John looked down at him, eyebrow raised, before sighing and sitting down next to him.  
"Fine, I'll stay." The response earned a small smile from Sherlock, who suddenly decided it was a good idea to use John as a body pillow, causing John to make a few flustered noises. He started mumbling nonsense, most of which John just nodded and agreed to, without even knowing what he was talking about.  
"Also, John. I know you keep denying the fact that you're gay, but you clearly show signs that you in fact, are. And for me. I was going to tell you this earlier, but I didn't know how you'd react. But it's alright, I think, because I feel the same about you," Sherlock muttered quickly.  
"Yes--wait, hold on a minute. _Excuse me?_ " John stuttered.  
"Oh good, you agree then. I was worried you'd yell at me again." Sherlock cooed, cuddling up to John. John's face might've been redder than a freshly picked apple, but he didn't shove him off. Instead, he pondered what Sherlock just said, and before he knew it, he was cuddling him back, playing with the ends of the detective's hair.  
They fell asleep like that. Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and Mycroft took pictures, and are now using them for blackmail.


End file.
